<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Salvation lets their wings unfold by HopeSilverheart</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542392">Salvation lets their wings unfold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart'>HopeSilverheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Clary Fray, Clary Fray &amp; Alec Lightwood Friendship, Discrimination, Downworlder Politics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Protective Clary Fray, Winged Alec Lightwood, Winged Clary Fray, not heavy angst though, shadowhunters have wings, wing fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:14:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is frozen and, when she spots what has him looking so horrified, so is Clary.</p><p>Above the fireplace, hanging on the wall like some sort of divine offering, rest a pair of huge, black angel wings, so similar to Alec’s own. The mere sight makes him want to throw up and curl his wings around himself to make sure all his feathers are still in place. He can’t even begin to imagine life without the pair of extra limbs every Nephilim has to deal with. To be faced with the reminder that some people want nothing more than to tear those wings off his back is…</p><p>“What the fuck, Alec?” Clary whispers, her voice choked up and angry and alarmed. “Alec, what is this?”</p><p>Or: Alec, Clary and Magnus go on a mission to a warlock's home. What they find there leaves its mark on both shadowhunters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>658</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTheStarsWriting/gifts">ToTheStarsWriting</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title is from robbie williams' 'angels'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For as long as shadowhunters have been collecting warlock marks for their family displays, downworlders have been doing the same thing with angelic wings. It’s something Alec has always known about, even though he’d never actually seen accounts of either practice.</p><p>Warlock hunting has been illegal for over a century, much to his relief. His parents taught him to fear and hate downworlders, but they never mentioned stealing marks for themselves. No respectable shadowhunter would dare showcase downworlder spoils in their home, especially since it goes against the latest Accords. Therefore, Alec has never really thought about what it would mean to see a part of someone’s body out in the open, presented like a trophy.</p><p>He’s on a mission with Clary and Magnus when it happens. His boyfriend is there to serve as a warlock representative, a requirement for missions involving downworlders. The warlock they’re looking for is a suspect in their latest mundane-kidnapping case, and Alec is on edge as soon as they walk into his home.</p><p>His wings are extended to their full wingspan, black feathers grazing against Clary’s silver ones reassuringly. A few months ago, he would have balked at having the redhead so close to him, touching the part of him he usually reserves for his family. However, times have changed and, although he has yet to say it out loud, Clary has quickly become somewhat of a little sister to him.</p><p>Brushing his wings against hers is a way for him to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe without having to look at her. He knows his presence steadies her as well, so he’s never stopped his brotherly instincts from taking over around her. Having her near is like second nature by now, since Clary is his chosen partner when it comes to going out on missions.</p><p>Regardless of who their <em> parabatai </em> are, Alec and Clary have been working together on cases ever since Valentine stopped being a threat. Isabelle and Jace are their other halves, but Clary and Alec are – by far – the most successful duo in the Institute. It’s why no one questioned them when they decided to take on this mission themselves.</p><p>Point is, Alec and the redhead are constantly together, attuned to each other almost as much as they are to their <em> parabatai</em>. So when Alec tenses, Clary is the first to feel it. In front of them, Magnus doesn’t even pause, walking straight through their suspect’s living room and into what looks like a kitchen. But Alec is frozen and, when she spots what has him looking so horrified, so is Clary.</p><p>Above the fireplace, hanging on the wall like some sort of divine offering, rest a pair of huge, black angel wings, so similar to Alec’s own. The mere sight makes him want to throw up and curl his wings around himself to make sure all his feathers are still in place. He can’t even begin to imagine life without the pair of extra limbs every Nephilim has to deal with. To be faced with the reminder that some people want nothing more than to tear those wings off his back is…</p><p>“What the <em> fuck</em>, Alec?” Clary whispers, her voice choked up and angry and alarmed. “Alec, what is this?”</p><p>It takes him longer than he cares to admit to look away from the disturbing display. When he does, he comes face to face with Clary’s furious and disgusted gaze, boring into him as though she can see his very soul.</p><p>“They’re Nephilim wings,” he manages to get out, his voice hoarse and wet and trembling. “Some- some downworlders used to collect them the same way shadowhunters collected warlock marks. It’s a sign of… power, in a way. A proof that they fought one of our people and came out victorious.”</p><p>“<em>Revolting </em> is what it is,” Clary hisses, her eyes straying towards the kitchen as though she expects Magnus to come back at any given moment. Alec doesn’t know how to tell her that his boyfriend probably didn’t even notice the wings. “Alec, this can’t be legal, can it? There’s no way we can’t arrest this warlock purely for hanging those up as though they’re some sort of <em> trophy</em>.”</p><p>Alec swallows thickly, peeking at the black wings again and biting back the words that want to spill past his lips. He wants to agree with Clary, wants to tell her they can lock their suspect up and punish him for a hate crime committed towards one of their own, but he can’t.</p><p>Instead, he tugs her closer to him and wraps his wings around her in a useless attempt to keep her hidden from the rest of the world. To keep the rest of the world hidden from <em> her</em>. He doesn’t want her to have to stare at that abomination for a second longer, especially not since he knows she’s thinking of his own wings every time she catches a glimpse of the spoils.</p><p>“We can’t do anything about it,” he murmurs once they’re encased in a cocoon of feathers. “This isn’t… It’s not our jurisdiction, Red. We have no say in what downworlders do or don’t display in their homes. And we have no right to reprimand them for taking someone’s wings when shadowhunters out there have done much worse over the years.”</p><p>He can feel Clary’s wings tense, obviously wanting to lash out but unable to do so from within Alec’s embrace. The redhead is vibrating angrily and all Alec can do is card shaky fingers through her hair comfortingly. He doesn’t know if it helps, but he doesn’t think he could do more than that even if he wanted to.</p><p>His heart is too busy pounding in his chest painfully. His mind is too blurry, filled with images of warlocks and shadowhunters fighting to death and ripping parts of each other out as a way to flaunt their superior abilities.</p><p>“It’s wrong, Alec,” Clary whispers against his chest. He doesn’t say anything, knows there’s nothing he can do to soothe her soul. If there’s one thing he loves about Clary, it’s her sense of justice and fairness. She won’t be letting this go anytime soon and he knows it. “And Magnus…?”</p><p>Alec doesn’t answer. He’s never actually talked about this with Magnus and doesn’t intend on doing so any time soon. His boyfriend has been through a lot, mostly because of shadowhunters, and complaining about Nephilim spoils is the last thing Alec wants to do.</p><p>“Magnus doesn’t – and has never had – Nephilim spoils,” Alec settles on saying. It’s not enough to satisfy Clary, but it’s all he can give her right now. “Now come on, we have a job to do.”</p><p>“I’m not going to let this go, you know?”</p><p>A sad smile twitches at Alec’s lips as he tilts his head, acknowledging Clary’s words but not saying anything more. He’s sure she’ll have plenty to say when she finally brings it up. In the meantime, Alec needs to focus on work and on arresting this warlock for what he’s <em> actually </em> done wrong.</p><p>When they step into the kitchen, Magnus is already deep in conversation with his fellow magic-practitioner. He sends Alec a confused and questioning look, clearly wondering what took them so long, but Alec only shrugs sheepishly. He’ll come up with a reasonable excuse later, probably something to do with checking the perimeter.</p><p>Next to him, Clary is immobile. Her eyes are cold and calculating as she stares at their suspect. As soon as the man realises who Magnus’ companions are, he smirks lazily. Alec would have taken it as a downworlder’s usual attempts at dismissing shadowhunters if not for the way the warlock’s eyes flashed smugly when they caught sight of Alec’s wings.</p><p>Clary’s own silver feathers are raised in hackles, aimed dangerously in the warlock’s direction, but Alec smooths them down with a single touch. The redhead leans into his hand as she always does, although she takes a second to narrow her eyes at Alec accusingly. She obviously wants to confront the warlock about the spoils, but Alec knows they have other things to worry about.</p><p>Still, he’s eternally grateful for Clary’s unwavering support all throughout the afternoon. It takes them longer than planned to get anything out of the warlock and even then, it’s not enough to arrest him. Alec can see Clary seething out of the corner out of his eye and knows, without a doubt, she’s seconds away from blowing up and doing something they’ll all end up regretting.</p><p>“Thank you for your cooperation,” Alec says diplomatically, tightening his hold on Clary’s wrist and waiting for Magnus to join them before leaving the room.</p><p>Right as they’re leaving, he lets himself glance back at the warlock one last time. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised, but he’s still taken aback by the sheer hunger in the man’s eyes.</p><p>“Come back soon, <em> angel</em>.”</p><p>The endearment makes Alec’s skin crawl. He hurries out of the kitchen as fast as possible, ignoring the itch in his back as he crosses the living room. When he exits the house, Clary is waiting for him with concern written all over her face.</p><p>He wishes it were enough, but the memory of wall-mounted black wings refuses to leave his mind. Magnus’ continued confusion is the only thing stopping him from breaking down right there and then.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“So we just let him go <em> free</em>?”</p><p>Clary glares at Alec furiously. She’s standing across from him, her wings unfurled and raised indignantly. They’re finally alone and, although Alec was expecting the redhead to bring the subject back up, he still doesn’t know what to tell her.</p><p>Legally, there’s nothing they can do about the warlock. Yes, there’s a high chance the man was lying about his involvement with the missing mundanes, but they have no proof. Yes, he was an arrogant asshole, but that’s hardly a crime. And yes, part of Alec wants nothing more than to take back what rightfully belongs to his people, but it isn’t his place.</p><p>No matter how much those wings look like his, they aren’t. No matter how much he wishes he could do something, he <em> can’t</em>.</p><p>“For now, yes,” he tells Clary, rubbing at his face tiredly. “We’ll continue investigating and I don’t doubt that we’ll eventually find the proof we need to take him in, but he’s innocent until proven guilty.”</p><p>“That’s absolute <em> nonsense </em> and you know it,” Clary snaps, slamming her hands onto his desk. If Alec weren’t so exhausted, he might have jumped back. As it is, he can barely manage a flinch. “That warlock has wings in his home. Nephilim wings he probably carved off a shadowhunter’s back. I don’t care if it was legal back then, it can’t be <em> now </em>. How has no one done anything about this?”</p><p>Alec sighs. Sometimes, he forgets Clary wasn’t raised a shadowhunter. She doesn’t know all the history and the reasons behind their laws and rules and other strange quirks. She doesn’t know why Nephilim can’t call downworlders out for owning wings. All she sees are broken feathers torn off someone’s body.</p><p>“It’s not that simple, Red,” he murmurs, gesturing for her to sit. She crosses her arms defiantly and refuses to lower herself onto the chair. Alec can’t blame her for wanting to work through all her pent-up frustrations and fears, but it’s not making his life any easier. “Clary… Downworlders and Nephilim have a history that’s impossible to ignore. Just because we’re all – mostly – at peace now doesn’t mean we always were. We can’t erase all of our pasts and condemn warlocks for what is essentially a part of their culture.”</p><p>“For some reason, I highly doubt Magnus would call those mounted wings a part of his <em> culture</em>,” Clary protests vehemently. “Alec, if you were to walk into a shadowhunter’s home and find warlock spoils, what would you do?”</p><p>Alec grits his teeth. He knows what the redhead is trying to do, what she’s trying to prove. But it’s just… It’s not the same thing. The problem is he has no idea how to explain that to her, doesn’t know how to make her understand that owning warlock spoils isn’t the same thing as owning Nephilim wings.</p><p>Even in his head, he’s having trouble justifying it.</p><p>“I would arrest them,” he answers, hating that he’s playing along and giving her exactly what she’s looking for. Just as expected, Clary’s eyes flash triumphantly. “Because shadowhunters are my responsibility and downworlder spoils are a breach of the Accords. I have no right to impede on the Downworld’s judicial system, Clary.”</p><p>He doesn’t even have a right to complain about it, because it isn’t any of his business. Downworlders’ actions have nothing to do with him; the Downworld stays away from Clave laws, and the Clave does the same thing in return. It’s how the world has always worked. The only exception are the Accords, and that’s a separate issue.</p><p>“Well fuck that!” Clary exclaims. Alec can’t remember a single time when he’d heard her swear, which is a testament to how agitated this whole affair has made her. “God, Alec, what kind of double standard are we living by? Do you have any idea how idiotic your arguments sound? You’re telling me that the downworlders constantly complain about how prejudiced and bigoted shadowhunters are, but then go ahead and keep Nephilim spoils? It’s goddamned hypocritical and no one should stand for it!”</p><p>“But what do you want <em> me </em> to do about it?” Alec blurts out, slightly annoyed at Clary’s refusal to understand, but mostly frustrated at his own inability to explain. “I’m not a downworlder, Red, I can’t do anything about this. Can you imagine this going over well with <em> anyone </em> if I try bringing it up? Downworlders have been oppressed for centuries; the least we can do is turn a blind eye on their one offense against us.”</p><p>Even as he speaks, the words sound wrong. He knows, deep down, that there’s no way he’ll be able to convince Clary to forget about the wings in that warlock’s home. His friend has so many moral values that don’t match with the way shadowhunters are supposed to think and he knows they’ll never really leave, no matter how much time she spends in their world.</p><p>He just wishes it didn’t make life so hard on her, didn’t make her so angry about things neither of them can control.</p><p>“Turn a blind eye, really?” Clary snaps. “Look, I agree that there are a lot of things wrong with the Shadow world and particularly the way shadowhunters believe themselves superior to downworlders, but this is taking things too far. Just because Nephilim have been awful to warlocks and other downworlders in the past doesn’t excuse that man’s actions. As soon as shadowhunters banned spoils, downworlders should have done the same thing. Why don’t you understand what I’m trying to say, Alec? Downworlders can’t spend their time complaining about shadowhunters treating them like demons and lesser beings if they’re out there collecting wings in their spare time! Or even just hanging them on walls for their entertainment!”</p><p>Alec looks away from her, not wanting to face her anger any longer. He understands the point she’s trying to make, and he even agrees with her to a certain extent, but this isn’t something he can change. This isn’t something he can talk to Magnus about. This isn’t something he can talk to <em> anyone </em> about.</p><p>“Red…” he murmurs defeatedly. Clary must hear the exhaustion in his voice because she immediately deflates, her wings curling around herself protectively instead of taking up a quarter of his office space. “I know it seems unfair and, in a way, I know why it feels like that to you. I’m not saying you’re not allowed to be pissed and worried and afraid, because you <em> are </em>. I just don’t think you understand how sensitive a topic this is. I’m not even sure…”</p><p>He trails off, not wanting to mention how he believes his boyfriend would react if he brought it up. Magnus is patient and kind and compassionate, but he also despises injustice. And as a <em> downworlder</em>, Alec is pretty sure he sees those wing trophies as a way for his people to get their revenge on all the shadowhunters who hurt them.</p><p>He can’t say he appreciates the sentiment but he thinks he gets it, somewhat. He knows his boyfriend would never purposefully shove Nephilim spoils in his face, but he also knows that Magnus didn’t see anything wrong with the wings mounted on that warlock’s wall.</p><p>“Wait a second,” Clary’s tone is sharp and her eyes are full of concern. “Are you telling Magnus is okay with all of this? Magnus Bane, the man you love, doesn’t mind seeing wings, <em> those </em> wings that look exactly like yours, broken and bent, hanging limply from a wall? You’re telling me you don’t mind the fact that your boyfriend, the man who’s supposed to stand at your side through everything, doesn’t <em> care</em>?”</p><p>“It’s more complicated than that,” Alec answers as calmly as possible. He knows he shouldn’t have brought Magnus into the conversation, but he just couldn’t help himself. He tends to bring Magnus up no matter what they’re talking about, and this is a topic that hits a little closer to home for the warlock.</p><p>It’s a topic that hits a little closer to home for their relationship.</p><p>“Explain it to me, then,” Clary says firmly, holding out a hand and lacing her fingers with Alec’s. “I want to understand, Alec, I swear I do. I’m just having trouble coming to terms with the knowledge that all these people who beg for equality are still displaying war spoils in their homes.”</p><p>Alec wonders if Clary is repeating herself because she thinks she’ll end up getting through to him or if she’s simply <em> that </em> appalled at what they saw that afternoon. Knowing her, both options are entirely possible. She just has a way of feeling things that’s so much stronger, so much more potent than most people.</p><p>It’s one of the things he admires about her. It’s also one of the things he hates about her.</p><p>(It’s one of the things that terrifies him, makes him want to hold her close so no one can take advantage of her and her immense heart.)</p><p>“Magnus has lived through centuries of shadowhunters torturing and belittling downworlders,” Alec tells her softly. The redhead starts rubbing soothing circles onto the back of his hand and he refuses to admit it actually helps soothe his frayed edges. “He’s seen his friends’ warlock marks being taken from them and displayed by the Nephilim who killed them. I’m not saying taking our wings is a good way of getting revenge, I’m just saying it is one of the many ways in which downworlders tried to prove the shadowhunters wrong. They were trying to make a point, to show they’re not the only ones who can get hurt, and I don’t think their actions were completely unjustified. If Magnus doesn’t see an issue with those wings, that’s none of my business. I may hate it, but I won’t hate <em> him </em> for it. You can hate the warlock for being an asshole, but please don’t bring this up if we ever see him again.”</p><p>Clary bites her lip and looks away; it’s clear she planned on doing exactly that, and Alec isn’t sure a single warning is enough to stop her.</p><p>“I just wish Magnus could see how much this hurts you, personally,” the redhead finally whispers. “I’m still not convinced spoils are alright, even though I understand there’s a history there and I’m not knowledgeable enough to judge anyone for anything. However, Magnus is your boyfriend. He loves you and cares for you, and he should have known this would affect you. He should have known seeing those wings would make you feel vulnerable.”</p><p>“It didn’t-”</p><p>“It did and we both know it,” Clary interrupts him. Her tone is harsh and unyielding, but her eyes are soft and sad. “You don’t have to pretend like this afternoon wasn’t hard for you, Alec. Not with me, not with your siblings, and certainly not with Magnus. Please, Alec, talk to him about this.”</p><p>Alec thinks about it for a second, wonders what it would be like to tell his boyfriend and explain why the warlock’s home made him feel so uncomfortable. He wonders what it would be like to hear Magnus remind him his wings are beautiful and precious and will never end up mounted on anyone’s wall.</p><p>He <em> wants </em> to hear it.</p><p>“I can’t,” he breathes out, wiping at his eyes furiously to get rid of the tears that have gathered there. He refuses to be weak about this. “I can’t put him in that position.”</p><p>Clary’s gaze turns infinitely sadder and then, in an instant, it hardens. When she stares at him again, she is resolute and determined and Alec knows he is going to hate everything she’s about to say.</p><p>“I understand,” she starts. He doesn’t let relief overtake him, knowing there’s something else coming. “But I don’t agree. If you won’t tell Magnus about this, then I will.”</p><p>There is no room for debate in her voice, and Alec already knows this is a fight he cannot win. He just hopes Magnus doesn’t hate him for whatever Clary has in mind.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They don’t see Magnus for another two days.</p><p>Or at least, Clary doesn’t. Alec goes right back to the loft on the evening of their mission with the warlock and tries to act as normally as possible. He knows he doesn’t completely succeed, knows Magnus suspects something is up, but his boyfriend doesn’t confront him about it.</p><p>It’s more than Alec had dared hope for.</p><p>Then they get another lead on the warlock, another chance at cornering him and getting something consequential out of him. Clary takes one look at Alec, at how pale his face is and how tense his wings are, and she announces they’re going to stop by Magnus’ loft and have a serious conversation before they enter that house again.</p><p>Izzy and Jace look a little confused by their decision but just shrug and tell them to go ahead. Neither of them mind having to look over the Institute for a while longer.</p><p>The walk to the loft is both too long and too short. Alec doesn’t know whether he’s grateful, terrified, or angry at Clary for refusing to let this go. He doesn’t know what she’s going to do and it scares him but also fills him with unending joy because this is his <em> sister</em>, ready to defend him against one of the most powerful warlocks in the world.</p><p>Part of him wants to talk to Magnus about this. But another, bigger, part of him is scared of the answer he’s going to get. He doesn’t want to hear the confirmation that his boyfriend doesn’t mind seeing those black wings on display. That he doesn’t <em> notice </em> anymore.</p><p>He’s never felt this nervous to knock on Magnus’ door, not even during the first months of their relationship. It doesn’t help that his boyfriend looks as stunning and magical as ever.</p><p>“Alexander, Biscuit! I thought we were meeting at my dear colleague’s house. Not that I’m complaining about seeing the two of you earlier than planned, of course, but is everything okay?”</p><p>Alec opens his mouth to say that yes, they’re fine, nothing’s gone wrong with this mission, but Clary is already pushing past Magnus and walking into the loft with that same confident and incensed look in her eyes. Magnus sends him a questioning glance but Alec can only shrug and walk in after Clary, hoping she isn’t going to be <em> too </em> blunt throughout this discussion.</p><p>“Alright, now I know something’s up,” Magnus says. “You haven’t been this rude to me in months, Biscuit. Did I do something wrong?”</p><p>Alec knows his boyfriend is trying to lighten the mood and make the awkward atmosphere go away but for once, he doesn’t appreciate his attempts. Clary isn’t going to back down either way and he’d rather get this awful conversation over with as soon as possible.</p><p>“You did,” the redhead answers unhesitatingly. Her voice rings loud and clear in the emptiness of the loft and Alec winces slightly at the shocked look on Magnus’ face. He obviously wasn’t expecting to be attacked by two of his close friends – especially since one of those two friends is also his <em> partner</em>. “Not that you’d know it, of course, but you did. Alec didn’t want to bring it up and I know it’s been weighing down on him these past couple of days. Please tell me you noticed <em> that </em> at least.”</p><p>Magnus flinches back at the accusation before looking at Alec uncertainly. He’s clearly not sure whether or not he should be talking about their private life with Clary. Alec only shrugs and gestures for him to move things along. They have a mission to get to, no matter how much he wishes they didn’t.</p><p>“I have noticed Alec has been a bit off,” Magnus says carefully, glancing between Alec and Clary as though wondering who he should be apologising to. It breaks Alec’s heart because his boyfriend doesn’t even know what he’s apologising <em> for </em> yet. “I just thought he’d come to me when he was ready to talk about it. Was I wrong?”</p><p>“You were,” Clary huffs. Once again, Alec grimaces at her lack of filter. It’s something he’s always admired about her but right now, it’s not doing them any favours. “Because this fool is too much of a self-sacrificing idiot to tell you about his issues. He thinks you’re going to get offended and doesn’t want to put you in a complicated position.”</p><p>“Alright,” Magnus drawls, frowning heavily at Clary before turning towards Alec. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’ll always listen to you and try to understand your perspective, and I’d never judge you for your feelings. I may not always agree with you, but I love you and would never get <em> offended </em> by anything you might have to say. Except if you’re purposefully insulting me, which I don’t think you would ever do.”</p><p>Alec pauses, hesitates, wonders if he can actually come out and say it. It’s just a few simple words, an easy question with an easy answer. Magnus might get angry at him or he might not. He might think Alec is crossing a line by talking about warlocks and what has essentially become a part of their culture, or he might not.</p><p>It’s the <em> mights </em> that make him worry. It’s the <em> what ifs </em> that hold him back.</p><p>“Does this have anything to do with today’s mission or can we wait until after it’s over?” Magnus presses his lips together. “My fellow warlock is going to be waiting for us and I don’t think us being late is going to make things easier.”</p><p>“How can you walk into that home and look at those wings and not want to rip them off the wall?”</p><p>Clary’s question echoes in the following silence. Magnus is staring at her, stunned, his eyes wide as they slowly slide towards Alec, snapping up to his wings and then back to his face. Alec wishes he could see what was going on in Magnus’ mind, what was making him look so <em> wrong </em>.</p><p>He wishes his boyfriend’s glamour wasn’t up; it’s always been easier to see the emotions flitting through those golden depths than the brown ones he’s currently sporting.</p><p>“You’re talking about the Nephilim spoils, right?” Magnus asks, staring straight at Clary, a hint of a challenge in his voice. “The ones that match the thousands of warlock marks <em> your </em> people have displayed in their Institutes?”</p><p>“Exactly,” Clary nods decisively. “Those ones. You can rant to me about shadowhunter and downworlder history all you want, it isn’t going to change my mind. Yes, I understand there’s a past there that I don’t really know anything about yet. Yes, I’m aware your people have suffered more than shadowhunters have. Actually, I might have let this slide if you weren’t <em> you</em>.”</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?” Magnus snaps, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. “It’s not my fault you hold me to some higher standard than any other downworlder. You may be my friend, Clarissa, but I’m a downworlder before I am anything else. I don’t agree with warlocks who put wings up in their living rooms, but there’s not much I can do about it.”</p><p>“This again?!” Clary yells, gesturing between Alec and Magnus incredulously.</p><p>Her wings are drawn up and aggressive, the silver glinting in the sunlight in a way that should have been ethereal but just added to how dangerous she looked. At any other time Alec would have admired her, would have been proud of how far she had come. But with those feathers directed straight at him, he can do nothing but grimace and glance away.</p><p>He doesn’t want to see the judgement in her eyes.</p><p>“Oh sure, you’re both all for equality and peace in the Shadow world,” Clary grits out mockingly. “You fight for downworlder rights and act as though you believe in what you’re preaching, but you’re incapable of doing anything when it matters. Tell me, is it that you truly can’t do anything about those wings, or is it that you <em> won’t</em>?”</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Alec sees Magnus clench his jaw and his cat-eyes flash threateningly. In that moment, he isn’t Alec’s significant other or Clary’s friend. He’s Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and one of the local Downworld’s most fervent protectors.</p><p>Whatever Clary is trying to achieve, Alec doesn’t think it’s going to work. Not when Magnus is looking between the two of them furiously, blue magic sparking at his fingertips.</p><p>The shadowhunters’ reactions are both instantaneous and opposite. As soon as she spots the magic, Clary draws herself up even further, her wings poised to attack. Alec, on the other hand, curls in on himself and steps aside, not wanting to get in the way of two angry and deadly fighters.</p><p>He usually trusts these people with his life. They’re part of his family in all but blood or name, and Alec knows they would never purposefully hurt him. The problem is he’s not sure they’re fully aware right now, not sure they would be able to stop themselves if he were to step between them. Standing aside is the only thing he can do, no matter how much he wishes it weren’t.</p><p>“If you think I’m going to let you insult me in my own home, Clarissa, you’ve got another thing coming for you,” Magnus snarls. “I have done more for the Shadow World in the past decade than you will in your lifetime. Don’t you dare accuse me of taking the easy way out just because I refuse to fight your shadowhunter battles for you. Warlocks have been around for centuries, and there is very little I can do to control them. So let me repeat myself for you, since you clearly didn’t hear me the first time around. While I do not agree with my warlocks’ questionable quirks, there is <em> nothing </em> I can do about it.”</p><p>Magnus is unconsciously echoing Alec’s words from the conversation he had with Clary and the shadowhunter knows it’s inevitably going to piss the redhead off even more. She hates it when people repeat things to her like she’s an unruly child who can’t quite comprehend what they’re saying.</p><p>She hates it even more when she’s convinced she’s right.</p><p>“Alright,” Clary finally answers. Magnus’ eyebrows fly up as though he’s surprised the redhead is giving in so easily.</p><p>Internally, Alec laughs. This is only the beginning of Clary’s tirade and his boyfriend should know that by now. Unfortunately, Alec also knows what his mission partner is about to say next. After the turn their conversation took the other day, it’s highly probable she’ll try the same thing with Magnus.</p><p>Unexpectedly, she doesn’t. Alec and Magnus wait for her to keep going, the silence growing heavy and uncomfortable, but she stays silent. There’s a defiant look in her eyes, though, and Alec knows she’s waiting for the right moment to hit them with what she considers her final blow.</p><p>“Alright?” Magnus asks slowly, his magic fizzing out. “You’re just going to accept that?”</p><p>“You seem to really think there’s nothing you can do about it,” the redhead shrugs. “It’s not like you’re wrong either; the shadowhunters should be the ones fighting for this. However, you also completely missed my point and I don’t think there’s a way I’m going to get it across right now.”</p><p>“You’ve never been one to give up that easily, biscuit,” Magnus says tentatively. He’s waiting for the catch and so is Alec.</p><p>“And I’m not about to start now,” Clary retorts seriously. “You might just need to see it to understand.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No matter how much Magnus acted like he didn’t care about Alec and Clary’s reactions to the Nephilim wings in his warlock’s home, he’s still unsettled when they step into their suspect’s house.</p><p>To be honest, he’d forgotten all about the wings that hung above the fireplace. Downworlders who showcase Nephilim spoils aren’t exactly numerous, but there’s enough of them that Magnus has learned to ignore the disturbing displays. He’s never condoned violence, whether it be from the shadowhunters’ of his people’s end.</p><p>Clary’s words, loathe as he is to admit it, have hit a sore spot that he has tried his best to bury over the years. He’s always fought for equal rights within the Shadow World and yet he’s all too aware of this one problem he’s never attempted to fix. Clary shouldn’t have attacked and accused him as she did, but she wasn’t completely wrong. Nephilim wings shouldn’t be kept as trophies.</p><p>The thought is at the tip of his mind when they walk into the other warlock’s living room. His gaze snaps to the wings on the wall and he barely holds back an angry hiss. Next to him, Alec is frozen.</p><p>Clary, on the other hand, is staring at him expectantly. Her eyes occasionally stray to the large, black wings above the fireplace, but she doesn’t say anything. They’re all silent and tense, and Magnus wonders how he didn’t notice it the first time they came around. How did he not notice Alec’s discomfort? Clary’s indignation?</p><p>“Well, well, my guests have finally arrived!” the warlock greets them cheerfully, stepping into the room and smirking at them all smugly. He obviously thinks this is going to be another pointless interrogation.</p><p>As he catches another glimpse of those sleek, black wings, Magnus suddenly hopes it isn’t.</p><p>“What are you all doing here, waiting around?” the warlock continues, either oblivious to the heavy atmosphere or not caring about it in the slightest. “I thought you’d jump straight into business like last time! And oh, can I say I am <em> very </em> happy to see you again, angel?”</p><p>For a second, Magnus thinks he’s talking to Clary. The girl has always looked more angelic than most shadowhunters, so the comment wouldn’t be unusual or out of place. However, when he follows the man’s gaze, he’s furious to realise he’s staring at <em> Alec </em>instead.</p><p>His boyfriend doesn’t flinch under the warlock’s hungry eyes, but Magnus has to refrain from flinging his magic at the insolent man. How <em> dare he </em> stare at Magnus’ boyfriend as though he were nothing but a piece of meat? How dare he even think about taking those wings away from him?</p><p>“Alexander is no one’s angel,” Magnus snaps, taking a threatening step forward. His fellow warlock doesn’t even move; in fact, his smile only widens delightedly. “Except mine, perhaps.”</p><p>“Oh, Magnus,” the warlock grins. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in bed with a Lightwood? You could at least have invited me along, you know how much I love their family.”</p><p>It takes a second for Magnus to understand what he’s implying. Then, his gaze snaps back to the wings and recognition floods his mind. He wonders if Alec knows, if he suspects, if he has any clue what those wings represent. He’s afraid of looking towards him, afraid of what he’ll see on that beautiful face.</p><p>Even without turning around, he can feel Clary bristle and her silver wings flare outwards. Whether or not <em> Alec </em> caught the implication, the redhead clearly did.</p><p>For once in his life, Magnus wishes he knew more about shadowhunter history and the origin of their wings. Maybe then he’d know if wings were truly hereditary. He’s never seen Robert Lightwood’s wings, so he has nothing to compare Alec’s to except the ones on the wall.</p><p>The ones he refuses to look at for even a second longer.</p><p>“Tell me, shadowhunters, what would you give to get those wings back?” the warlock asks when the trio fails to greet him back or start interrogating him. “What would <em> you </em> give, Lightwood? Perhaps your own pair? They would certainly be a better addition to my collection. Imagine what my friends would think.”</p><p>“Friends? You?” Clary scoffs, stepping forwards until she’s at Magnus’ sight. It doesn’t escape Magnus’ notice that, this way, they’re shielding Alec from the warlock. Not that he minds the gesture- on the contrary. “For some reason, I can’t imagine you organising dinner parties. If you even <em> think </em> about touching Alec’s wings, I’ll make sure you’re locked up for a lot more than mundane kidnapping.”</p><p>“If you can even manage that,” the warlock smirks. “Remember how successful you were the first time around? What do you have now that you didn’t a week ago? Because I can promise you won’t get away with arresting me for those beautiful wings.”</p><p>“Oh, we have plenty of proof,” Clary snarls. It’s partly a bluff, since most of this warlock’s arrest is going to depend on what he tells them, but it serves its purpose. The man’s eyes widen uncertainly before his features smooth over. “The only question is how long it’ll take us to get you in handcuffs.”</p><p>“Clary, that’s enough.”</p><p>It’s the first thing Alec has said since they entered the room. Magnus almost double-takes at his partner’s voice, having not expected him to speak up. It’s one thing for Alec to step into this room without throwing up, it’s another for him to actually say something.</p><p>Magnus isn’t sure he would be coping half as well if there were a pair of cat eyes displayed in front of him.</p><p>“We only have a few questions to ask you, and then we’ll be on our way,” Alec says, looking straight at the warlock. “With you in tow, hopefully.”</p><p>It takes a single sharp glance from Magnus to make the warlock understand he won’t be getting away with this.</p><p>He knows it’s hypocritical of him to be this affected by the wings. He knows that, after everything he told Clary back at his loft, he shouldn’t be overreacting like this. However, there is a huge difference between hearing the accusations slip past Clary’s lips and seeing Alec’s wings – because they <em> are </em> his, even though they aren’t – mounted on a wall like a prize to be shown off.</p><p>It makes him sick to his stomach, and he doesn’t care if Clary never lets him live this down. He’s willing to arrest every downworlder in possession of wings if it means he never has to see those black feathers in the warlock’s house again.</p><p>Getting through this round of questions is almost impossible. It takes all of Magnus’ self-control not to attack the warlock on the spot. It doesn’t help that the man is intent on making snide comments about Alec as often as possible. His shadowhunter is impassive in the face of the warlock’s insults and taunts, but Magnus can see the tiny cracks in his mask.</p><p>Alec’s wings are taunt, and Magnus can detect the slightest tremble in those black feathers. His boyfriend may think he’s being subtle, but Magnus has had months to get to know his quirks, and he knows there’s nothing Alec wants to do more than leave the room.</p><p>He’s sitting on the couch awkwardly, asking his questions in an attempt to focus on anything other than the wings, not that Magnus can blame him. He’s half tempted to leave the room himself, dragging Clary and Alec with him to get them away from this horrible display.</p><p>All throughout the conversation, he curses himself.</p><p>He curses himself for being so ignorant and lax in his job as High Warlock, curses himself for never seeing the horror behind those wings, curses himself for letting Alec think he would ever be anything other than supportive. More than anything, he curses himself for his earlier outburst.</p><p>He can tell Alec is still tense and worried about the words he threw at Clary, even though they weren’t technically aimed at him. He knows his boyfriend is probably asking himself if he’s still welcome in Magnus’ loft, if he should stay away for a few days. It breaks Magnus’ heart, especially since he knows he can’t say anything in front of this goddamned suspect.</p><p>Finally, after what feels like hours but is probably just a little more than one, they have everything they need to arrest the man. The smug grin on his face has faltered and is mostly gone by now, but Magnus can still see the hints of defiance and arrogance in his gaze.</p><p>“A shame you won’t let me touch your wings, angel,” he says as Alec slides the cuffs around his wrists. “They would truly look wonderful next to your ancestor’s. He fought so <em> beautifully</em>, and I get the feeling you’d be an even worthier opponent. Really, such a shame.”</p><p>This time, Magnus doesn’t hold back his magic. He sends a hot spark of fire into the angelic cuffs and infuses them with his own power, smiling darkly when he sees the pain etched all over the warlock’s features. The man takes a second to send him a betrayed look before he’s trying to tug his hands out of the torturous contraptions.</p><p>“Siding with your lover, Bane?” he snarls. “I should have known you would want those wings for yourself. We’re all the same at the end of the day, aren’t we? Ready to fight for the most precious of treasures.”</p><p>“Indeed we are,” Magnus answers, his lips curling up in disgust. “However, our definitions of what’s to treasure are very different. I cherish Alec not for his wings, but for himself. Don’t you dare talk to him again, or I will make sure you perish in the depths of hell with my father. Tread carefully, because I will not repeat myself. If you ever make it out of the Clave’s grip alive, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”</p><p>With that, Magnus pushes the warlock towards Clary, opening a portal next to the pair and waving at her in a silent demand for her to take care of their problem. He needs a moment alone with Alec.</p><p>The redhead doesn’t look happy at the order, but she’s also obviously delighted at the idea of putting their prisoner behind bars. Magnus shakes his head at her, both amused and proud of her for standing up for what she believes in. Better for her to take her anger out on this warlock than on <em> him</em>.</p><p>The portal closes behind them, and Magnus turns back towards Alec, mouth already open and an apology at the tip of his tongue. The words die on his lips as soon as he sees Alec.</p><p>His boyfriend is standing in front of the fireplace, head tilted upwards and to the side. He’s obviously staring at the wings displayed up there, but that isn’t what catches Magnus’ gaze.</p><p>No, what makes him lose his breath is the sight of Alec, wings spread out beautifully, standing underneath one of the most horrific sides of warlock culture. It’s the image of his angel without his wings, feathers broken and shed, back bloody and in pain. It’s the sudden reminder that his Alexander has been staring at his ancestor’s wings all afternoon and hasn’t protested a single time.</p><p>The reminder that Magnus failed to notice his boyfriend’s suffering until someone else pointed it out. If there’s one person who deserves his love and attention, it’s Alec. Magnus hates that he wasn’t there for him these past few days, that he didn’t even think about the spoils when they walked into the house the first time.</p><p>His angel stands tall and proud, but Magnus isn’t a fool. He can see how shaky his fingers are, can see the tension in every single one of his feathers. It breaks his heart, over and over again.</p><p>When he raises a hand to his cheek, he’s unsurprised to find tears staining his face. He wonders if they’re reflected on his angel’s features or if Alec is truly that much stronger than him. He wouldn’t be shocked either way.</p><p>“Alexander,” he murmurs, taking a step in his boyfriend’s direction and stepping until they’re close but not quite touching. “Alexander, we should go home.”</p><p>“They’re my ancestor’s.”</p><p>His voice is broken and hoarse, and Magnus closes the distance between them to wrap his arms around Alec’s waist. He’s never wanted to protect his shadowhunter more than he does in that instant.</p><p>“I didn’t know him,” the black-winged angel continues. “I should never have been able to see his wings. And yet here they are, put up for anyone to look at. I thought it didn’t bother me, because what’s this in comparison to all the pain you’ve gone through? But Magnus, they’re…”</p><p>He trails off, but Magnus knows exactly what he was about to say.</p><p><em> They’re my wings</em>.</p><p>“Let’s go home, Alexander,” he whispers.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They make it back to the loft in a matter of minutes and, now more than ever, Magnus is incredibly thankful for his magic.</p><p>As soon as they’re safe inside his home, Magnus pushes Alec onto the couch and orders him to stay put. He can see the traces of shock and worry written all over Alec’s face and he doesn’t want his boyfriend to have a panic attack, especially not when they have so many things to discuss.</p><p>Because although Magnus deeply regrets his earlier words, it doesn’t change the fact that his boyfriend didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about something that clearly affects him more than most things do. He can’t help but wonder if this is the first time Alexander has kept his emotions wrapped up inside him for fear of offending Magnus.</p><p>The thought hurts more than it should and Magnus busies himself with preparing two scalding cups of tea to distract himself. He needs these few minutes of respite before jumping into yet another painful conversation. He needs all the strength he can get to bring Alec out of his shell.</p><p>“Here you go, darling,” he forces a smile onto his face as he hands a cup of overly-sweet tea to his boyfriend. His angel barely even glances at him, though he does mumble a quick thanks before wrapping his hands around the steaming beverage.</p><p>The sight hurts, because Magnus knows this is one of Alexander’s way of grounding himself. He uses the pain, the slight burn of his fingertips, to focus on the things in front of him. Magnus respects the need for an anchor; he just wishes his boyfriend’s wasn’t <em> agony</em>.</p><p>“Alexander,” he says softly, fidgeting with his own cup but looking straight at Alec. “Please don’t shut me out. Please don’t keep everything locked in that beautiful mind of yours until it implodes. I’m here for you, darling.”</p><p>It takes a second for Alec to move, but then he’s angling himself towards Magnus. His gaze is still fixed on his tea, but at least he seems to be willing to speak. His brows furrow thoughtfully and Magnus has to bite his lip to stop himself from breaking his boyfriend’s focus.</p><p>“It shouldn’t bother me so much,” Alec finally murmurs. “You’ve told me about all the horrors you had to witness in the past, and this is… This is nothing. Those wings don’t belong to anyone I know, and they’ve probably been there for longer than I’ve been alive. I have no right to be this- this <em> upset </em>.”</p><p>“You have every right,” Magnus corrects forcefully, gripping his cup tighter in an effort not to reach out to Alec. He has no idea if his boyfriend wants anyone touching him when he’s obviously confused about his own feelings. “<em>Sayang</em>, it’s completely normal for this to bother you. Those wings, they… Damn it, Alexander, of <em> course </em> you’re allowed to be upset.”</p><p>“But it just doesn’t make sense!” Alec exclaims, moving so suddenly that some of his tea splashes onto his bare arm. He doesn’t even notice. “I’ve never been bothered by anything like this before, Magnus! It’s fucking ridiculous! All it took were a few words from Clary, a few taunts from that man, and I’m…”</p><p>He doesn’t finish his train of thought, though it’s clear he has something in mind. He puts his cup down and clenches his hands into fists, finally gazing down at Magnus with those beautiful eyes of his.</p><p>Tentatively, his angel curls one of his wings towards Magnus in clear invitation. The warlock doesn’t even hesitate, snuggling closer to Alexander and sighing softly when his soft wing settles around his shoulders. Alec once told him it’s his way of making sure the people he loves are safe and happy, and it warms his heart every time his boyfriend does it for him.</p><p>“I just don’t want you to think I’m being irrational about this,” Alec continues after a few seconds of silence. “I know you were just as angry as Clary once you realised how similar those wings are to my own, but you had a point earlier. There’s nothing we can do to stop it, and it’s none of my business what warlocks display in their home. My ancestor was probably an asshole anyways.”</p><p>“Most of them were,” Magnus admits, his lips quirking into an amused smile. Trust his boyfriend to be more worried about Magnus and the Downworld than himself. Seeing those wings couldn’t have been an easy experience, and yet here Alec is, telling Magnus he’s afraid of his judgement. “However, your ancestor’s actions and words have nothing to do with your own. Even then, it doesn’t justify the continued collection of Nephilim wings. Clary wasn’t wrong when she accused me of being too afraid to do something about this.”</p><p>“It shouldn’t be up to you to fix other people’s mistakes,” Alec murmurs against his hair. They’re too close for Magnus to meet his gaze, but he can imagine the concern and love in it as clearly as he can picture the sky. “You’ve done so much already, Magnus, you said so yourself. If Clary wants to do something about this, she’s welcome to try, but you shouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable backlash just because you have a shadowhunter boyfriend.”</p><p>“Maybe I don’t,” Magnus whispers, burying his face into Alec’s neck and rubbing his nose against the feathers he can reach. “But Clary and you don’t either. There are so many good things you could fix from within the Nephilim society, but this? This isn’t one of them. This isn’t something you should have to fight for. Your wings mean as much to you as warlock marks, and we should have banned their showcasing as soon as you did the same for us.”</p><p>Alec doesn’t say anything, and Magnus knows it’s because he agrees, no matter how much he wants to tell Magnus he doesn’t. He’s probably been thinking about this ever since their first mission, wondering if he was overreacting or if he was right to question warlock ‘culture’.</p><p>He’s undoubtedly come to the same conclusion as Clary – and now Magnus – had. Displaying wings is barbaric, whether those feathers belong to a downworlder or a shadowhunter. Thirst for revenge will never justify what that warlock did. It will never justify the way he taunted Alec into believing he would take his wings, too. It will never justify Magnus’ blindness to the true issue.</p><p>He knows this isn’t his fault. He’s so used to seeing those wings hanging around that he’s learned to forget about their existence. He’s always hated their presence, but he never spoke up. A part of him always believed it was a warlock’s right to keep those Nephilim wings for themselves. But it isn’t.</p><p>There are so many things warlocks deserve, so many things shadowhunters have yet to give them. There are so many reasons for them to protest and complain and fight, but spoils are no longer one of them. Magnus will defend his people to the very end, until shadowhunters treat them exactly the same way as they treat their own. He will fight and snarl and petition for better laws, for less discrimination, for his people’s freedom and safety.</p><p>But he won’t argue in favour of violence and medieval methods that should have been banned decades ago. He’ll make sure the Warlock Council hears what he has to say on the matter, just as Alexander has spoken for the Downworld in front of the Clave.</p><p>His boyfriend has been doing everything he can, has lost respect and been degraded for dating a boyfriend, has been doubted and questioned for his progressive way of thinking, and Magnus will be damned if he doesn’t do the same thing on his side. Clary is right; the only thing those wings prove is how hypocritical downworlders can be.</p><p>“I understand why you didn’t talk to me about this earlier, darling,” he says when Alec doesn’t contribute anything to the conversation. “But it would have been well within your right to tell me you were uncomfortable. Just because shadowhunters have more prejudices against my people than I do against yours doesn’t mean I shouldn’t respect all the hard work you’ve put into making this world a better place.”</p><p>“You’ve done more,” his boyfriend answers quietly. “I’m just a privileged kid who finally got his head out of his ass and realised there was more to the world than the shadowhunter community.”</p><p>Magnus chuckles at Alec’s words. His Nephilim isn’t wrong; in many ways, Alexander’s actions in the last few months are his way of righting past mistakes. Magnus has been fighting for equal rights for a lot longer and will continue to do so even once Alec is no longer at his side.</p><p>However, he’d rather not get caught up in that at the moment. They’ll have plenty of time to talk politics and Downworld rights and everything else tomorrow. For now, Magnus just wants to make sure his boyfriend understands how much he loves him and respects his emotions, no matter how wrong they may feel to Alexander himself.</p><p>“What you say may be true,” he twists his head and pulls away as much as possible, pressing a sweet kiss to Alec’s chin. He needs his boyfriend to realise this is about <em> them</em>, not the rest of the world. “However, that doesn’t excuse my lack of attention. You’ve always been so careful to treat me like a human being worthy of respect, even though my parentage is slightly dubious. The least I could have done was ask you what was wrong after our meeting with our suspect.”</p><p>“You were giving me space to think things over,” Alec shrugs. “That’s more than fine.”</p><p>“I should have pushed for answers as soon as I realised you weren’t going to speak up,” Magnus frowns. He hates that he wasn’t there for his boyfriend when the man needed him. “And as soon as I realised how <em> lost </em> you were in your own thoughts. I stand by what I said earlier, darling; you can talk to me about anything.”</p><p>“I’ll try harder,” Alexander murmurs, leaning down so he can kiss Magnus on the lips. His breath is warm and his fingers are steady as they curl around Magnus’ waist. This, on top of the protective wings surrounding them, is enough to get rid of whatever tension remained in Magnus’ body. “You know I’m not good with feelings but, if you want me to be more open with you, I’ll try. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect from the very start, but…”</p><p>“That’s more than enough,” Magnus assures him, his lips brushing against Alec’s as he speaks. His boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and warm, and Magnus still doesn’t know how he didn’t realise how much duller they were these past few days. Or more accurately, why he didn’t try harder to make them bright again. “Now, is there anything I can do to get your mind off this afternoon? I saw how hard it was for you to look at… <em> them</em>.”</p><p>Alec tightens his hold on him, fingers digging into Magnus’ skin almost painfully. The warlock doesn’t even flinch, gazing at Alec patiently as he waits for his shadowhunter to answer his question.</p><p>“Could you use your magic on mine?” he finally whispers, blushing prettily as he always does when he asks Magnus to do something with his magic. “The way you do when I’m stressed or injured.”</p><p>“Of course I can, <em> sayang</em>,” Magnus replies immediately, grinning widely at the request. There’s nothing he loves more than the feeling of his magic on Alexander’s feathers.</p><p>This time is no different. If anything, it’s even better.</p><p>Magnus takes his time on the inky feathers, brushing them with his fingers and sending waves of tingling magic to soothe their aches. Alexander melts against him as he gets to work, leaning into Magnus’ invisible touch and closing his eyes in a show of trust that never fails to steal Magnus’ breath.</p><p>They stay that way for hours, holding each other, Magnus’ magic taking care of Alec’s feathers and the black wings surrounding them both in a warm cocoon.</p><p>Magnus doesn’t know if it helps Alexander at all, doesn’t know whether it’s enough to make him forget about the other pair of black wings, still hanging in the other warlock’s home. However, when they lay in bed later that night, wrapped around each other in a loving embrace, he realises it doesn’t matter.</p><p>“I love you,” his shadowhunter murmurs, and that’s all Magnus needed to hear. Proof that they’re okay, that they’ll make it through this together.</p><p>“<em>Aku cinta kamu</em>, Alexander.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Heya guys! Thank you so much for reading! And thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOnIce/pseuds/AceOnIce">Amelia</a> for being an amazing beta, as always! Of course, thank you to Val for throwing the prompt onto the Malec discord server in the first place, this was a pleasure to write and I hope I did your idea justice! I hope you all enjoyed this!</p><p>Love, Junie. </p><p>(find me on tumblr @hopesilverheart)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>